#i don't do enough AUs that lean into the absolute bastard side of barry

[kravkalackin]

Barry knew that the powers he was tampering with were not to be taken lightly. He knew that he was not a particularly good person for deciding to tamper with them anyway, and even less wise. 

He also knew that he didn’t really care. 

The worst part, the thing that he could understand objectively made him pretty fucking terrible, was that there wasn’t even a reason. He had no great loss, he wasn’t looking for vengeance or love or even just raw power. No, none of that. 

It was just interesting, and so few understood these dark magics. Even fewer could wield them properly. He wanted to see if he could. 

Even his almost clinical interest was starting to have concerns about this one though. The book had been old, older than anything Barry had ever seen before. Scorched and what remained written in a language that had taken him months to translate. The damage left some parts incomplete, most of it incomplete actually. 

But this ritual, this one had remained intact. Almost eerily so, like whatever fire had befallen it wouldn’t or couldn’t harm this part. 

The only problem was that he had no idea what the ritual was supposed to do. 

So of course, he was trying it out. 

Magic this old, this deep, there wasn’t a lot he could do to really ward it in case things went wrong. Still, he had set up the strongest charms he could around his lair, and that would have be be enough. Despite the power he could feel from just reading the book the actual ritual was surprisingly simple. 

Runes in an ancient language, carved into the rib of an ancient whale (which had taken... some effort to get down here) surrounded by more runes crafted from melted wax on the stone floor. Taking a deep breath, he used another piece of bone to craft a clean cut across the palm of his hand, reaching out to let the blood drip onto the bone as he began speaking the incantation. 

As he spoke the small amount of blood that had dripped onto the bone began to spread, covering it in red much more than it should have rightfully been able to, until the entire pillar was soaked in it, covering the runes that had taken a whole day to carve. 

He continued with the incantation, his voice starting to sound doubled in his ears. He couldn’t tell if it was his own voice heard twice, or if someone else had joined him. Whatever it was the ritual continued, the runes underneath the blood bursting into flames, quickly engulfing the entire pillar and threatening to choke him out with its heat. 

Barry forced himself to keep going. If there was one thing he knew was worse than trying one of these things, it was leaving one incomplete. As he drew to the last few lines of the incantation he heard a loud crack, followed by another, and more still. Through the flames he could see the giant, ancient bone in front of him splitting and splintering like a twig in a bonfire. 

With the last lines of the incantation, it exploded around him. 

Barry was knocked back, and it must’ve been the spell that kept any of the jagged bits of bone or flame from impaling and killing him then and there, despite the way they jabbed into the cave walls around him. He was still flung into a bookcase behind him, and there were a few moments where he was left lying there, coughing and wheezing as the fire and smoke around him slowly subsided. 

When he finally managed to look up, to see exactly what it is this damn ritual actually did, for a moment he thought the center of the room was still on fire. Then he realized his glasses had been knocked askew, and when he pushed them back into place he could see a bit more clearly. It still looked like fire, but there was so much more to it than just that. 

She was humanoid, looking like a wildfire given form. A few of those runes glowed brightly along her limbs, before fading away as her own fire seemed to quell some, until she appeared more like a comforting smolder. Despite the bright, somewhat shifting form her features were surprisingly pronounced, and Barry could see her staring right at him, her head cocking to the side after a moment. 

“Not... what I was expecting,” she said, a strange, almost otherworldly accent to her voice. Barry coughed once more, pulling himself up along the shelves behind him. 

“Are you the creature this book summons?” he asked, holding up the ancient tome as he asked. At least the magic that summoned her decided to update her language so that they could understand each other. 

He saw her eyes land on the book, an enraged glare suddenly crossing her face, the flames that made up her hair flaring up as she shot a hand forward. Barry couldn’t move fast enough, the book shot with a blast of fire. He at least managed to drop it before it burned his hand. 

“Summoned? No, that damn thing trapped me,” she snapped, and Barry felt his stomach drop a little at that. He had certainly considered the idea that he’d be releasing some ancient evil into the world when he decided to use the thing. “What’s your name?” she asked suddenly.

“Barry,” he answered, honestly, like an idiot. He must’ve hit his head harder than he thought in that crash. The beautiful spout of fire in front of him grinned at that. 

“Nice to meet you Barry. I’m Lup. I was kind of in the middle of something when locked away for, uh, how old would you say that book is?” she asked. 

“Rough estimate? Two, two and a half thousand years?” he said, and she winced at that. 

“Ouch, okay, when I was locked away for fucking two thousand years. And since you let me out, you get to help me pick up where I left off. Sounds good?” 

If Barry was a good person, he would have refused. Would have recognized that something locked away this long, and with something so powerful, was locked for a reason. Would have started a search for some way to bind her again, so that whatever dark plans she had would never come to fruition. 

But as previously stated, Barry wasn’t a very good person. 

“Yeah alright, works for me.”